The Second Book of Short Stories by Lyn Funnell

Author:Lyn Funnell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mum, children, Sir, humour, real life, pigs, lemonade, courtship, fleas, bed, skulls, farms, Kings, murder, filthy, pongo, snoring, cottage, vigilantes, nuclear power, cliff richard, love
ISBN: 9781849893411
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2011
Published: 2011-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

Or

Circling above the heads of the cheering crowds, I prepared to land.

Arms spread out, I lined up with the straight, wide road that stretched from one end of my kingdom to the other. My toes touched the sandy ground, lifted, touched down again. I ran a few paces to keep my balance, then stopped. It was a perfect landing. My subjects waved and shouted their adoration. Their King had returned!

A band led the way to my platform. Everyone threw flowers high into the air and a sweet-smelling, multicoloured shower of petals rained down upon us all.

Stepping onto my platform, I held up my arms and silence dropped like a curtain. All eyes were upon me. ‘People of Or,’ I declared, ‘Your King has come again. Let the celebrations begin!’

I sprawled on my couch while a roar emerged from millions of throats, blending and growing as it spread outwards to the furthest regions of my kingdom, echoing around us like thunder.

Tables laden with all kinds of delicious food stretched along the road. My people were well-cared for. Every time they helped themselves to anything, they saluted me with gratitude. How they love me!

Flute-like music played while I tucked into the dishes spread in front of me, grabbing handfuls and forcing the food into my mouth. Oh, the joys of being a King!

A line of beautiful maidens danced into view, singing in their lovely virginal voices. They formed a circle and, hand in hand, they skipped round my platform, their eyes filled with love for me.

Picking up a soft, juicy tomato, I hurled it at one of the girls and it struck her directly in the face, but she didn’t stop her dancing. With the blood-red liquid running down the front of her, she never missed a step. How my subjects laughed!

Suddenly a priest, dressed in a white robe and wearing a hideous mask, appeared. He fell on his knees and bowed to me with his forehead touching the ground. The circle of dancing girls broke and the priest took the hand of the first girl. Then they all skipped away, up the thousand steps leading to the altar above, where other priests awaited their arrival.

Proudly, the girl who I’d hit with the tomato lifted her dress over her head and threw it away. It floated slowly down, down, into the crowd. The naked girl laid herself on the stone altar and the masked priest expertly slit her chest open and ripped out her heart. He held it, still throbbing and writhing, on the palm of his hand, offering it as a dedication to me. I nodded my approval.

All eyes turned simultaneously to my left. A long marching line of people, clad only in white loincloths, stretched away as far as the eye could see. Some of them were prisoners, captured in battles with other kingdoms, and some were eager volunteers, proud to die for the love of their King. They marched up the steps towards the altar, and as they marched,

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